Deserving
by Green-blooded
Summary: Why do certain people deserve certain people? When you are green, who do you deserve?


Disclaimer: I own nothing. I want to own nothing. It's all in my head.

"Looking for someone?" Galinda battered her long lashes at that scandalicious prince.

"Not anymore," Fiyero winked suggestively back at the blonde hanging, literally, off his elbow. "So, what does one do for fun around here? I personally don't really like all this 'studying' business. Too much information."

"The Ozdust Ballroom is where we hang out. There's a dance on there tonight. It starts at 7pm."

"Pick you up at 8 babe?"

"Ooh," Galinda giggled suggestively at a pitch even dogs found offensive sometimes. "See you then."

They walked off in separate directions. Rather sooner than expected Galinda was back in her dorm room. After trying on everything in her wardrobe, and the wardrobe of her friend two doors down, she finally settled on the dress she had originally picked out. It was pink and looked, honestly, as if a sensual marshmallow had coupled with a pound of lace and been dipped headfirst into a pot of glitter. She didn't mind – pink was so in right now.

"Elphaba, try to understand," Nessa was losing patience with her elder sister. For someone so intelligent, she could be really dense sometimes.

Elphaba raised one perfect black brow in her expression of eternal sarcasm, and then suddenly gave a very disgusted, very horsey, snort. "I am trying Nessa. I just don't understand why everybody is off to worship his Royal Highness Prince of the ass..."

"Elphaba! Language!"

"Sorry Nessa...his Royal Highness Prince of the _Idiots_...at some stupid cultist gathering. He hasn't even been here an hour and already I felt the general IQ drop about 100 points." Absentmindedly the lean green girl stuck her hands into her pockets and paced.

"Elphaba..."

"Why do people flock to parties Nessa? Why do they insist on gathering together to worship the ditsiest and most idiotic of people? This ass...moron...has been here such a short time and already he has everybody worshipping him."

"Including me," whispered the girl in the wheelchair. It was such a soft whisper that her sister almost didn't hear her.

"Nessa?" Elphaba faltered, unsure as to what she had really heard.

"I'm going to the dance Elphaba," Nessa smiled inwardly at the look of utter shock on Elphaba's face. The way her sister had tried so hard to conceal her glance at the wheelchair when Nessa had uttered the word 'dance' was utterly priceless. "Boq asked me. He was too shy at first, probably because; well, of the political situation with father being the governor and Boq being a Munchkin, but once Galinda encouragerised him..."

"Galinda," Elphaba spat the name through her front teeth.

"Yes, Elphaba, Galinda. I don't want to hear anything against her from now on. All my life I have depended on your kindness, and father's, and the pity of everybody. Now, for the first time, I can have fun. I can go and drink punch with a beautiful, darling Munchkin boy Galinda found me."

Elphaba smiled at her sister's happiness.

"We deserve each other, Boq and I. We deserve each other..." Nessa's train of thought wondered off as she thought about Boq.

"We deserve each other," Elphaba heard her sister whisper as she wheeled herself away.

The door banged open and the cold rush of air into the, once private, suite announced Elphaba's arrival. Trust Elphaba to arrive now to spoil things – and just when she was about to accessorise herself. Galinda rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Galinda," Elphaba wriggled her fingers nervously as the room went strangely silent and the posse who were helping Galinda get ready exchanged silent glances. "My sister and I were just talking...about the dance."

"The dance," Galinda sighed dreamily. Then she noticed the time on Elphaba's alarm clock and gave off a shriek that had her tall, green roommate jumping a foot into the air. "Fiyero, that Winkie Prince, is going to be here in an hour and I haven't even finished applying my make-up yet! What am I going to do? I don't have any eye shadow that matches my dress!"

Elphaba rolled her eyes. Everything Galinda owned was either pink, white, yellow or blue and she had at least 20 different shades of make-up to match each of her 60 pairs of shoes. "About the dance..." Elphaba couldn't finish her sentence.

"Fiyero invited me earlier. We are so going out. We deserve each other, him and me. We like the same music, sport, fashion, music, fashion...oh, we just deserve each other.

Elphaba smiled wryly. "That's nice Galinda. Maybe you guys can put your shoe sizes together and finally come up with an IQ that isn't in single digits." Before she had even planned it, the words were out there and Elphaba winced internally. This was not going to go well. She didn't see the smile on Galinda's face and the mischievous look that entered her eyes as she was rummaging through one of her many pieces of luggage looking for her latest make-up collection.

"Elphaba, here," Galinda turned around holding a black, slightly dusty, pointed hat. "My grandmother sent me this hidio...hidiociously fashionable hat and I want you to have it." She thrust the hat into Elphaba's chest with an audible thump.

"Um, gee, Galinda..."

"No, don't thank me Elphaba. You deserve each other. You and this hat. Both so...sharp and...smart. You deserve each other." Galinda batted her lashes before turning back to her make-up collection trying to find a pink eye shadow, different from the one she normally wore, that would go with her pink dress. Her posse caught the smirk on her face and started to giggle as they, too, began to search through drawers and boxes.

Nobody saw the look of pure sadness that flickered briefly across Elphaba's face before she gently placed the hat onto her bed and went out for some air.

_Nessa and Boq deserve each other. Galinda and Fiyero deserve each other. And what do I deserve? A hat. A hat to hold me when I am lonely...and hat to tell me I am special...maybe that's all I will ever deserve; a dented, dusty, pointy black hat._


End file.
